


Familiar Faces

by Delphi



Series: Goat Song [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Australia, Drama, Gen, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-18
Updated: 2008-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set one year after the events of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/39597">Goat Song</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar Faces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PurpleFluffyCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFluffyCat/gifts).



The last thing she had expected when she'd returned to Sydney to restore her parents' memories was that they would want to stay. To her chagrin, they had settled comfortably into a life without children in the year she had been away. They loved the city and the harbour, their new dental practice, and their little condominium. They had even bought a dachshund.

Happy as they'd been to remember her, they had quite rightly pointed out that she was finished school now and, being what she was, it was hardly any more trouble for her to come visit them in Sydney than it would have been if they'd stayed in Bristol. Presently, she was happy for the holiday. Between being run ragged at the Ministry and Ron being...well, Ron, a week abroad was exactly what she needed. And, as long as she was in the area, she thought she should at least nip down to the wizarding district in Wollongong to see the sights and buy Harry and Ron a pair of Warriors pennants.

She had just left the Quidditch outfitters and was heading across the way to what looked promisingly like a bookshop when a passing glance through a shop window halted her in her tracks.

It couldn't—

Her hands shook as she backtracked, wrenched open the door, and barged into a shaded room. The smell said 'apothecary' even before her eyes registered the sights.

She stared at the man behind the counter. "...professor snape?"

The man looked up, and she blinked. Then her shoulders slumped as she realised that while he bore a startling resemblance to Severus Snape, the likeness was not exact. He was shorter, wasn't he? Yes, yes, Professor Snape had certainly been taller, always looming over them. This man was a little heavier, tanner, and his hair was longer, tied neatly back—and perhaps his nose, under a pair of wire spectacles, wasn't quite so large.

He raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you, Miss?"

An Australian accent. Faint but unmistakable.

She looked around, shaking her head to get her wits back. "Do you have any...do you have any stomach settlers? I'll be taking the international floo tomorrow."

He regarded her strangely, and she supposed she must be as pale as she felt. "Certainly."

It was hard to look away from him as he crossed the shop to pull a small bottle from the shelf.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, "but you wouldn't happen to know any Snapes, would you?"

As carefully as she watched him, he did not betray so much as a twitch. "Around here? No." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he returned to the counter and rang up her total on an ancient till. "There's a Snope family who live upstairs of the barber shop, I believe. Might they be who you're looking for?"

She shook her head, fumbling in her purse and counting out coins. "No, I'm—I'm sorry, what's your name, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Prince," he said, holding out his hand. "Julius Prince."

She stared at his palm, which was dotted with burn scars just as Professor Snape's had been—but of course, he was a brewer too—trying to judge whether she was supposed to shake it or put money in it. She decided to give a cursory handshake and put the coins on the counter. "Prince. Are you related to Eileen Prince? From England?"

He counted out the money, slipped a coin back to her, and began to pen a receipt. "Possibly, if she's descended from Percival Prince of York or one of his kin. My great-great-grandfather came here in 1836—rather against his will—and we've been here since."

"Oh," she said, feeling rather silly. Now that she really looked at him, she decided he was definitely younger than Professor Snape. And rather better-looking. "There's a resemblance, that's all."

His smile was bland but polite. "Well, you tell her hello from the Princes of New South Wales."

She took her purchase with a matching smile and hurried out of the shop before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. She leaned against the bricks until her heartbeat slowed. A year later, and the events of that last day at Hogwarts still sneaked up and pounced on her every once in a while. She needed to sit down and have a hot drink.

There was a pub directly across the street, _Bess's_, but a glimpse through the open door made her suspect it wasn't seeking tourists. It looked to have a small stockyard in back besides, and she was fairly certain there were health laws against slaughtering on-premises, even in Australia.

She made for a little bistro instead, sparing one last glance behind her at the apothecary. Through the hazy distortion of the glass, Julius Prince might have been the ghost of Severus Snape. She pushed the foolish thought aside, however, recalling a dozen other uncanny resemblances; one of these days she would remember just how small the wizarding world really was.


End file.
